


Debt and Meaning

by SardonicusRust



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Age Difference, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Do Not Archive, Don't Like Don't Read, Dragon Fucking, Dragon sex, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Implied Asexual Character Having Sex, Implied asexual character, Life Debt, Manipulation, Mind Control, Other, Sex Magic, Sex Negative Ace, Smut, Worship, debt repayment, dubcon, egypt arc, no beta we die like men, out of body experience, she said no but the dragon dick said yes but with more mind control sex magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SardonicusRust/pseuds/SardonicusRust
Summary: She let her feet move without her permission and trusted her body to do what it needed.It wasn't the first time she'd misplaced her trust. Should've known better, Sasha.
Relationships: Sasha Racket/Apophis
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Debt and Meaning

**Author's Note:**

> hey this is all really rather terrible so please mind the tags and take care of yourself, yeah?
> 
> Sasha deserves so much more fic. Maybe not this fic, exactly, but good luck prying my dark stabby daughter from my filthy, filthy hands.

Sasha opened her eyes.

It was early. Or late. Not a time to be awake. Not fair. She’d finally been able to enjoy the sleep of the living-  _ sleep like the dead _ , an absolute shite turn of phrase, she’d slept awful when she’d been dead- but now she was awake at whateverthehell hour it was. Wide awake.

And now she was sitting up, moving the covers off herself. Putting her bare feet on the cold stones. Who knew Egypt could get so cool? Or maybe she’d gotten used to the hot. Or maybe she’d gotten used to not feeling much for temperature at all. Being dead was weird, sure, but being dead then back alive? Real weird.

She wandered out of her room.

Into the corridor, down the hall.

Right to the front door. It was maybe the second time she’d used the front door ever. Windows were her doors. The roof was her corridor.

A lurch of uncertainty went through her at the alien touch of the doorknob. A sudden sharp jab of  _ don’t want this _ . She didn’t want to go through that door, she didn’t want to go outside, she wanted to go back to bed, or go out a window, she didn’t want to just step right out the front into the open space. The  _ don’t want this _ was like a physical thing, a string across her shoulderblades pulled taut, making her lungs and heart and everything between her shoulders flutter and stammer.

Her hand wrapped around the knob and pulled it open, and she stepped right out the front into the open space.

The feeling spiked into full blown panic as her body- her instrument, her beloved tool of her craft, so capable of everything she demanded of it, whether it was climbing, sneaking, being silent, stabbing, even ingesting an amount of dire lobster that was bordering cruel to it, she had asked so much and it had always done as she wished. Even in death, her body served her well and wonderfully.

Now she watched it move as she screamed and begged it to stop, and it denied her every step.

Fine. Fine. Okay. She would see what was going on, and then she would- she would just deal with it. She always did. They always made it out. She always made it out. She’d beat Other London and the dark there, she’d beat the black ocean in their flight from the isle, she’d beat the lightless deep beneath Paris, and she would beat this night too.

She would come out from it. She tried to take a deep breath.

Her lungs pulled in air, filling, and let it out slowly.

_ Good _ . She silently thanked her body that it would let her do that. It wasn’t against her. She was just walking. Apparently. It occurred to her that she could yell or scream, probably, if she could still ask her lungs to do her things, but decided to not. She would see where her feet took her. Maybe her body was asking her to trust it, this once. Fair enough. She stopped fighting it and let herself walk.

It was a lot of walking, and their destination was obvious. There was nothing but the dragon’s house this far out in the desert.

That was alright, then. Apophis had been fair to her. He’d given her the thing what’d brought her life back. Maybe this was just something to do with that. She relaxed further, letting herself walk into the enormous pyramid.

The doors opened in front of her without her touching them. Apophis was surely awake, and he had wanted her to come. Curiosity was washing away the initial panic and fear. What did a dragon want with her, the sneaky Other London rat with all the nice daggers? Maybe he had a secret mission for her. She was used to powerful folk asking her for missions- others never seemed to get the sneaking thing, it was always dead easy to her, but for some reason most other folk didn’t get it, so she kept being asked to do missions and the like for people. She felt a little flush of pride, growing warmer with each step. This ancient dragon needed her, apparently. For something. Not bad for an Other London rat.  _ I’m useful and brilliant after all, Eldarion. Eat dragon clart. _

Now feeling positively tickled with her own talents, Sasha watched herself move deeper into the pyramid, mostly blind in the dark, but still passing through halls and doorways without hesitation.

And then there was the faintest glow ahead. A door was closed, but there was light beneath it. Orangey red light. Almost like brass.

_ Right, let’s see what Lord Apophis needs from little ol’ me. _ She chuckled, and relaxed further that her body let her. Apophis was double- no, triple- no, way more than even that- way older than her. But here she was, fresh alive and young and coming to do whatever he needed from her-

The door opened, and in the moment it took for her to see inside, she both understood what favor Apophis was asking of her, and threw her muscles into reverse. She fled.

No, she didn’t. Her body stopped. Her breath picked up, but nothing moved.

_ No. No, no, no, no, no- _

Apophis was in the middle of the room, in human form. Behind him were two enormous doors, clearly meant for a dragon, but the room itself and the contents were all man sized, designed for the comfort of a human. The bed he was sitting on was plush with a perfectly white, plush looking duvet, pillows to his back beaded with shining stones and bronze colored thread, the headboard elaborate and bright with precious metals. His feet were bare and clean, human sized and shaped, as well as the length of his calves, the thighs above that, the hips and stomach and chest and shoulders, the neck, chin, nose, hair- looking human.

The eyes were all dragon.

And the cock standing straight up from his lap was- Sasha couldn’t look at it, couldn’t decide if it was human or dragon or what, she just knew  _ no no no no no no no- _

Apophis gave her a slow, easy blink, and then she began to move again.

Not toward the door, to the open air and the desert and out of this place as she wanted.

Instead of pumping at her sides in a flat sprint as she wished, her hands lifted-

Up-

Toward herself-

To begin to remove her clothes.

She wore only what she’d slept in- a loose shirt, soft trousers- and it only took a moment for them to be lying on the floor. The air was cool. She felt her chest tighten, not with fear, but her small, pale nipples reacting to the air.

Between her legs, what she’d felt as the warm flush of pride earlier made itself known as…. something else. She was wet, but not with sweat. She was-

_ No no no no no no no _ -

She screamed at her body, but her body stepped forward.

Her body said, “Please.”

Apophis held up a hand, and she took it lightly in her fingers. He was hot, and it was like it was catching- she felt a rush of warmth all over, like a shiver but not cold.

Her screaming in her head had gone mute with shock and disbelief, and she watched and felt and moved to put a knee on the bed. The other knee. Moving forward, and now she couldn’t look at his- look at him even if she wanted to, because they were so close.

She leaned in and he let her come to him.

She kissed him.

A half numb, confused, disconnected part of her mind realized this was kissing, and that it felt nice. Noted the reactions of her body pulsing stronger with the pressure and motion of mouth on mouth. The fear had become so big it became everything and nothing, and she could only take in the new things she felt and learned.

His breath was hot as well, and it was like it was infecting her.

Or maybe that was just part of the reactions.

One of her hands was in his hair. Had she moved it? It felt right there. Not like it was against her control. She tightened her fingers in his hair and kissed him harder. Her other hand was on his chest, bare and hairless, feeling the solid musculature wrapped tight over his sternum.

She was going to fuck him.

She  _ wanted _ to fuck him. She felt uncomfortably soaked, empty, needing something. A moment ago, she’d needed to run.

She still needed to- she needed-

She wasn’t sure what she needed more now. Was he still controlling her as she tightened her knees around him? The desire was like being parched, desperate, aching for it, but even different from thirst- the ache and need itself was good.

She needed-

Had she really been forced to walk here? Had she walked her herself? Was this need from him, or had it been her all along? It felt like it came from within. Her body wanted. Needed. Her mind-

Her mind had been screaming and panicking and fighting, hadn’t it?

Maybe it had.

All she could think now was  _ need _ .

More. Hotter, Harder. It crashed over her like a wave, a literal surge of wetness between her legs.

“Please,” she said again.

Again? Had  _ she _ said it the first time, all along?

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t separate what had been her and what had been her body, and if her body had really been her, she was- it was all fused, welded by the scorching heat and need.

His hands touched her for the first time, and she gasped into his mouth as they settled on her hips, stroking down her thighs just once, smoothing over the hair that had rose in goosebumps, softening them, and she wanted to look to see if his touch had left physical marks, because it felt like he was still touching her all over, her body holding onto the sensations so hard. He- She- the need held her locked kissing him desperately, unable to do anything but try and fill her mouth with his breath, his tongue.

She needed so badly.

His hands settled back up on her hips- higher, her waist- and moved with her, lifting her up slightly- she’d already been moving ( _ or had he been moving her? _ ) in small undulating motions, and he made the roll of her body larger, arcing up, high on her knees, forward-

The blunt head of him nudged the center of all her own need, soaking heat, and her breath caught. The kiss froze as she focused on the sensation of him against her.

So this was what everyone was so mad about-

And now she was mad too, making foolish, garbled sounds as she sank down, opened around him, stretched, pushing down, pulling open, forced by gravity and his touch and the control ov- the need that had seized her so strong she may have mistaken it for possession-

She let out a soft sob, overwhelmed, when she stopped moving because there was nowhere left to move.

Fully seated on the length of him, wrapped tight around him, him like steel, her like steel, feeling hard and taut- she understood.

This was what people fought for, fought over, ruined their lives and other’s lives and themselves for. It had always been so perplexing as to why people did what they did, for this- but she understood. She felt omniscient and transcendent. The world was glass and she was steel and she could see through it  _ all _ .

Feverish and panting, she realized she had been speaking. Murmuring- not garbled noise, not just broken whimpers and gasps of need. Two words were falling from her lips like stones, leaving her feeling light, lighter than she ever had before.

~~ She didn’t feel like herself- this isn’t  _ you, this isn’t me, I’m not- it’s not me, that’s not me, I’m me- run, Sasha- _ ~~

She had never felt so light.

So she let herself float. Jump. Dive. Soar.

Her hips rolled against his, moving with this new unlocked instinct she’d found within her- it had been there all along. He had opened her up, found the core of her, and sent her soaring.

~~_ THIS ISN’T YOU- _ ~~

She fucked him.

That’s what she was doing. She was fucking him. Apophis. He was hot and hard inside her, touching all sorts of things that sent off explosions and shivers under her skin. It was better than anything she’d done or had in her life. Nothing she’d ever done was anything compared to this. It faded to gray, the meaning drained out of it compared to the light and fire of this.

Her life had meant  **nothing** until now.

It had all culminated to this.

And it was still climbing.

She ground and bounced on his lap, driving the breath from her lungs, driving himself hard and hot against the perfect center of her, searching for that peak that would give her meaning. She needed it so bad-

She was still babbling, even as her voice broke and stuttered, punctuated and shattered with hiccupping breath and sounds she’d never made before, never known she could make-

It was  **important** . It was finally  **meaningful** .

She was made for  **this, and this alone.**

**Nothing you have ever done has meant anything.**

**This is all you are good for.**

**This is all you need.**

**I am all you need.**

**Thank your Lord and give what is owed.**

**Give yourself.**

She writhed and worked through a haze of sweat and need, barely aware of anything anymore but that rippling, growing tide working within her, and the depth she was getting closer to. Her strength, her agility, it was perfect for this-

**made for this-**

**-nothing else.**

The enormous depth was- she was there- she was at it-

Within it-

She was beneath the earth.

She was above it.

_ Oh. _

**Give it all to me.**

She gave.

Electricity. Pins and needles. Shivering, shaking.

Her lungs stopped working- everything stopped. She wasn’t within her body anymore.

Beneath the earth.

Above it.

Power, pleasure.

Nothing else existed.

**Nothing else matters.**

**Give thanks to me.**

no no no no no this isn’t me

“ _ Thank you thank you thank you thank you- _ ,”

She stopped.

Slowly replacing the tingling, arcing pleasure, as it drained away in long sighs and aftershocks, Sasha came back to herself.

_ Sasha _ came back to her _ self _ .

She looked at him, her whole body tensing, going rigid with shock.

Going rigid  _ around _ him.

He was still- and still inside-

She scrambled back, letting out a moan of discomfort even as she was moving away and off him, the shock of being empty and soaked with herself-

No, not herself- that hadn’t been her-

She gathered her clothes and backed out the door, unable to take her eyes off him, and she left the room with the exact same sight she’d seen coming in, like time going backwards, only it had happened, she couldn’t erase it, she couldn’t back time up and try again- it had happened,  _ that happened _ -

_ You did that _ -

_ It wasn’t me! _

_ …. Wasn’t it? _

The same sight she’d seen coming in-

But now he was shining with- he hadn’t even sweat or changed, it was her sweat, her- her  _ fluids _ \- and on his shoulders like pins of honor were dark red marks where she’d scratched him, not in rage, not in fight, in p-

She’d scratched him when she’d c-

Her body obediently moved with speed and silence out of the room and into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write more about dragon dicks but there was so much else going on- I'll save that for later, I guess.


End file.
